


Asking For A Miracle

by BWaves



Series: Joy and Owen [12]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Sex, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, No Aftercare, Owen is emotionally constipated and desperately needs an emotional enema, Rejected Love Confession, anxiety attack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-10-07 14:09:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17367311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BWaves/pseuds/BWaves
Summary: After the fourth of July, Joy is finding it harder and harder to keep his feelings in check.





	Asking For A Miracle

It had slipped out on accident the first time. Joy had said it on instinct, a knee-jerk response to something Owen said, and Joy apologized for it. He felt wrong, apologizing for it, Owen had agreed he shouldn’t, but Joy brought it up again later, no less.

In the morning, as they packed up and loaded the car, Joy had stopped Owen before they left the hotel room, and he assured him that he really, truly was sorry for letting those three words slip. Owen shrugged it off, and they settled back into a comfortable place sometime around lunchtime, when Joy’s stomach growled loud enough to be heard over the radio.

Joy thought that would be the end of it, but once the dam broke, he’s been getting worse and worse at letting it slip out.

Casual moments, when they’re at the store and Owen says something funny, and Joy sighs it out. Owen always reacts the same, tensing up a bit, laughing uncomfortably, and mumbling a non-committal “Yeah,” before he puts what he picked up into their basket for buying, and moves on to quietly finish their shopping trip.

It’s always tense afterwards. Joy’s given up apologizing. It doesn’t make a difference because it keeps happening.

Sometimes it’s less casual, they’re eating dinner, Joy finishes first (he always does) and he tries not to let it get weird as he watches Owen finish off his fries or his milkshake, and he doesn’t think, he just says it. Owen tenses up, mumbles his usual response and he pretends it didn’t happen. Joy deals with the fact that Owen can’t look at him for a while, and they eventually settle back into their normal dynamic.

Joy thinks it a lot. He thinks it at him. He likes that because Owen doesn’t hear, and therefore doesn’t react. He thinks it when Owen smiles really big, when he stops them to take a million pictures of a sign trying to get all the details of the map, when Owen laughs, when Owen kisses him, when Owen fucks him.

That’s the worst. Or the best, depending on how he thinks of it. He’s been strong about keeping himself from screaming it loud enough for the whole continent to hear when Owen pins him down and makes him cry out in ecstacy.

Of course, it won’t last, and he knows it won’t last. His composure, his self control, it’s bound to break, and he thinks that this, this is what will do him in.

It was a long day, traffic was awful, the tire went flat, Owen got a nosebleed in the middle of fucking nowhere, they didn’t get where they had planned to, and now were stopped in some uncomfortably small town in New Mexico, in a hotel booked to the brim because it’s the only good hotel in town. Owen’s composure had started to deteriorate a couple of hours ago, and Joy tried his best to keep him running just long enough to get to the room, where Owen promptly dropped his things, sat on the bed, and cried.

Not from sadness, or anger, he was just overwhelmed, and Joy knows that. It’s happened a few times, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch.

Joy puts his things on the floor a little gentler and sits on the bed next to Owen, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close. Owen folds into him without protest and he buries his face in Joy’s chest, wrapping his arms tightly around him. He’ll be alright. He just needs some time to let it out, and Joy is more than willing to help him let it out. He rubs Owen’s back and he pets his hair and Owen eventually pulls away, sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

He clears his throat, rubs his tears away. and pushes his hair out of his face. 

“You okay?” Joy asks softly, rubbing a hand up and down his spine. Owen nods, he leans over to put his head on Joy’s shoulder and wraps a hand around his waist, squeezing him gently and turning his head a little to plant a kiss on Joy’s neck. 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, “for, uh, y’know, putting up with my shit.” He laughs, weakly, and he sits up again, “It was just, uh, it was a lot. Today. Today was a lot.”

“I know. It’s okay. Just take a breather, try not to die. When you feel a bit better maybe we can hit up the creepy looking restaurant next door for dinner,” he smirks, nudging Owen with his elbow and earning a laugh.

“I think we’re going to be subsisting on the junk food we have in the car tonight, unfortunately.” Owen smiles, swiping at his face one more time before he pushes to stand up, “As fun as food poisoning and getting stabbed sounds, I would rather eat the chips and shit we’ve got already.” He smiles, and he squeezes Joy’s shoulder, “I’ll run and grab stuff and you can just get comfortable. Any special requests?”

Joy hums a bit, laying down on his back and stretching out, “Uh… yeah! Bring me my Sour Patch Kids!” Owen snorts at him, and pokes Joy’s stomach while it’s arched up.

“Like I’d forget your candy, you heathen. What else? You can’t have Sour Patch Kids for dinner.”

Joy crosses his arms in a pout and he sits up again, “Fine. Get me Doritos. Oh, and one of those chocolate muffins, unless I ate the last one this morning.” He grins and Owen ruffles his hair, gives him a thumbs up and snags a keycard before heading out of the room to get their snack dinner. 

Joy watches him go, and as soon as the door closes, his shoulders slump and he heaves a sigh, because his heart hurts. He can’t even pinpoint why, but then again, he knows it’s because he’s head over heels and Owen doesn’t even feel the same. Or at least won’t say it.

Joy pushes himself up, and he gets off the bed, he might as well go ahead and get himself comfortable. He grabs a pair of shorts from his bag and he sits on the bed to get his jeans off. He starts to remove his legs, and he’s gotten one off, and set on the bed when the door opens and Owen returns, arms full of snacks.

“Snacks!” Joy cheers, and Owen drops the haul onto the bed, tossing the bag of Doritos at Joy, causing the other to tip back as he catches them. Owen smiles a bit, and Joy rips open the bag, grabbing a chip and groaning happily at the delicious cheesy flavor. He puts the bag down and he gets back to his leg, getting off the right and slipping himself off the bed. He scoots across the floor to prop his leg up on the wall, he reaches back as Owen passes him the other in a routine they’ve perfected, and it joins it’s twin.

Joy scoots back over and climbs back onto the bed, tugging on the shorts he grabbed for sleeping in. He grabs the Dorito bag, and scoots up the bed to lean against the headboard, “What are we gonna watch tonight, Owen?”

“The same thing we always watch, Joy. Mythbusters.” He smiles, and he settles in next to Joy with his own bag of chips, making sure all their snacks are nearby. “Provided they have it, of course. Because I don’t think this town has any kind of television, much less cable.”

They settle together and Owen flips through channels until they manage to find Mythbusters. They eat and talk and Joy rests his head on Owen’s shoulder as he gets tired. Owen turns the television off and he leans his head against Joy’s. “You ready to go to sleep?” he asks, “We gotta go and do, like, adult stuff tomorrow.” Joy hums softly in acknowledgement, and Owen smiles into his hair, “I’ll take that as a yes.” He carefully maneuvers Joy down to lay on the bed, and he tugs a blanket over him, he slips under the covers himself and he snuggles up to Joy’s back, kissing the top of his spine and smiling at the shiver that rolls through him.

He does it again and earns another, and he slips a hand under the hem of Joy’s shirt and Joy stirs a bit, turning his head a little and cracking open an eye to look at Owen. “Are you trying to turn me on?” he asks, and gets a snort from Owen.

“Maybe,” he mumbles against his skin, and Joy rolls his eyes, before rolling over to face him. “Are you letting me try to turn you on?” He smiles, and Joy just rolls his eyes again, and grabs Owen’s cheeks to pull him into a kiss.

It’s not very intense, it’s deep, but languid, neither of them has the energy for anything like their usual fucks, and as such it takes a while before Owen remembers to move his hands again, too caught up in the kiss. Joy shifts a little closer and he hums softly against Owen’s lips as his hand glides up and down Joy’s back, over his hip and up again. Owen’s other hand joins shortly afterward, guiding Joy to lay on his back.

Joy runs his fingers through Owen’s hair and he sighs when Owen pulls away to kiss a trail down to his neck. Joy tips his head to give Owen room, and he leaves a trail of gentle pecks over him until his hands push Joy’s shirt up and Joy tugs it off, dropping it off the side of the bed. His shorts are quick to follow, and he grabs onto Owen’s shirt before the other has a chance to get him completely naked. Their clothes fall into a pile, until they’re both naked, and pressed together.

Neither of them are in a hurry, Joy is enjoying tracing shapes on Owen’s back, while Owen lazily grinds down on Joy, kissing him still, again and again, like he can’t stop.

Joy is the one who finally pushes them forward, kissing a trail up Owen’s neck to his ear and nipping softly, “Get the lube.” Owen moans softly and follows his order, slipping away from Joy and digging into their things until he finds the bottle. He comes back to Joy and he fumbles the bottle for a moment, hands shaking again.

Joy reaches up and grabs his hands when the bottle falls onto his thigh. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he says softly, and when Owen’s eyes meet his it seems like he’s somewhere else. “You’re okay, it’s okay, Owen,” he pushes himself to sit up, and Owen nods at him, murmuring that he’s okay, he’s okay. It’s probably just residuals from before, and Joy reaches up to cup a cheek, “Breathe for me, Owen, take a deep breath. You’re alright. Do you wanna stop?”

Owen shakes his head, he turns his hands so he can hold Joy’s in return and he shakes his head again, “No, no, I’m okay, I just… Fuck. I don’t know, it kind of came back, but I’m okay, I just need a minute.” Joy smiles at him, and kisses his forehead, “Thank you, for, for understanding.” Owen smiles, and Joy kisses him again, kissing that gorgeous smile.

Owen spends a few more minutes relaxing, giving Joy absent little kisses as they lay next to each other. Joy lets him guide the pace when he feels up to it again. Owen kisses him a little harder, and his hands start roaming again.

It doesn’t take long to get back to where they were, Owen makes quick work of prepping Joy, pressing into him slow and steady once his fingers are out of the way. He bottoms out and they both moan. Joy runs a hand up Owen’s back to his shoulders, his fingers brush over scars along his arms before trailing up into his hair.

He thinks it again. Those words, the ones that freak Owen out. He bites his lip hard when Owen presses a very gentle kiss to his temple. Joy tangles his fingers in his hair and he kisses Owen in return. “Come on,” Joy whispers, and Owen nods, cupping his cheek and kissing him softly, “Fuck me, Owen.”

Owen nods and he rests his forehead against Joy’s as his hips start rolling. Joy hums softly at the pleasure and he shifts a bit, changing the angle. Owen sighs out his name, and Joy arches. They move together slow and easy, like they were meant to be like this.

At least Joy thinks so. He feels perfectly in place here, with Owen. He feels like this is where he’s supposed to be. He doesn’t believe in any dumb shit about one person being made for any one other person, he’s never believed in that, but with Owen…

He gasps, head snapping back when Owen hits his prostate. His grip on Owen’s hair tightens and he pants hard when Owen hones in on that spot. He doesn’t pick up the pace at all, it stays slow, but it’s deliberate. Joy trembles with every stroke, his moans gradually pitching up in volume each time Owen hits it. He pulls on Owen’s hair and pulls him into a kiss when he finally shifts and relents. 

This feels different, it isn’t like usual. They’re usually so quick, so passionate, but this, it just feels intimate in a different way.

Owen kisses him hard, and pulls away, slipping a hand between them and pumping Joy’s dick as they rock together, “Oh, fuck, Owen!” He feels good, Owen kisses a trail down his neck, and shifts again, making Joy cry out when he returns to his deliberate press against Joy’s sweet spot over and over again.

It’s a lot, it’s too much after a while, when the pace stays slow, and it just doesn’t quite reach a peak. Joy tangles his fingers in Owen’s hair and he shudders hard.

“Fuck, fuck, Owen,” he whines, pulling him into a harsher kiss than their pace really calls for. He pants into Owen’s mouth when he pulls away, “I love you, fuck, Owen, fuck.”

The pace of Owen’s movements stutters, and he groans, his forehead pressing hard against Joy’s, “Fuck, shut up.” Joy shakes his head a bit, Owen grabs his cheeks and kisses him again, harder than before. He bites Joy’s lips hard, and Joy almost pushes him away because it hurts and not in a good way.

When the kiss breaks, Owen strokes his cheek, and shushes him, a thumb slipping into his mouth. Owen sits up, putting some space between them, and Joy can’t help but look away when he sees how scared Owen looks. His thumb stays in Joy’s mouth, keeping him from being able to say anything. His other hand presses to Joy’s chest, pinning him to the bed as he picks up the pace.

Joy’s head falls back again as Owen fucks him, harder and faster, with intent to end this. Joy closes his lips around Owen’s thumb and he pushes himself to look at him, despite the pleasure making him want to look away. Owen’s eyes are averted, and Joy isn’t going to have it.

He’s tired of this, of pretending this isn’t a thing, of acting like it didn’t happen.

Joy reaches up and grabs his hair, pulling Owen until he looks at him, and Joy holds eye contact, sucking hard on his thumb. He wants Owen to feel it, to know that silencing him isn’t going to stop him from feeling it. Owen doesn’t relent in his pace, even with the added eye contact.

They move together until Joy finishes, head falling back again as he cries out around Owen’s finger. Owen fucks him through it, and then through his own orgasm, filling Joy up, and pulling away too quickly.

The sudden absence makes Joy shiver, Owen’s cock and thumb gone before he even has time to process it. The bathroom door slams, and Joy flinches, panting hard as the residuals of his orgasm roll through him.

Joy stares at the ceiling, shivering for so many reasons he can’t quite pinpoint what causes the tears to spill over.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this and you'd like to see more, go check out joyandowen.tumblr.com where you can see more involving these characters, and asks and requests are currently open!
> 
> The blog gets updates earlier than this does!
> 
> Actually, the blog is currently 6 stories ahead, so if you want more, now, I highly recommend checking it out!


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